


Only for Your Lover to Find

by nihilistshiro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Altean lance, Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Magic, Omega Lance (Voltron), Slow-ish burn, shance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2019-08-24 19:18:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16646132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilistshiro/pseuds/nihilistshiro
Summary: On the beautiful planet of Altea, life is peaceful and the magic is flowing. Thanks to the Chosen omegas who protect Altea and hide it away from the universe with their incredible abilities, Alteans have lived without fear of their Galran enemies.Lance is given everything he could ever want as a Chosen, the temple that he calls home is comfortable, luxurious even. But he wants more, even if it is forbidden by the sacred laws of Altea. Then his world is tipped upside down when a Galra pod crashes near his secluded sanctuary with an alpha human inside. Has Lance finally found a mate worth risking his magic abilities and his place among his people?Shiro escaped the gladiator ring and managed to land somewhere hidden from his captors. But the alpha has trouble resisting the kind omega who nurses him back to health, even if it could change both of their lives irrevocably.





	1. Golden Skies

**Author's Note:**

> What are you doing EJ?? Another chapter fic??? 
> 
> Yes.
> 
> This is based off one of my pocket romance Tumblr posts :)

Lance sat with his back against the cool wall of the temple, made from pearly Altean marble shot through with gold, his feet planted in front of him, arms looped around bent knees.

The sun was hanging low, bobbing just above the tree-lined ridges of Altea’s wilderness, the city and capitol miles away. The scene was undeniably beautiful–reds and violets and pinks spilling down from the heavens to stain the blue-green wood in amber light. Juniberry plants poked through the undergrowth, their fuchsia petals turning dark crimson as the sun made its way down, soon to be replaced by the planet's two moons.

Unfortunately, the beauty of his homeworld did nothing to ease the ache in Lance's chest.

He sighed, fingers picking at the gold bangle wrapped around the bicep of his opposing arm. It was shaped like a delicate vine with green crystal leaves, and matched the other ornamental pieces he wore—a circlet around his forehead and a necklace so long it looped three times around his neck, resting on his chest.

Lance would give all his jewels gladly if he could replace them with the warmth of fingers and palms. Would trade every scrap of silver and gold for the comfort of a strong embrace.

Omegas were born with a desire to mate, their DNA programmed to make them partners, to find a pack that they could nurture and cherish, to nest and breed. But Chosen omegas like Lance were forbidden from partaking in one of life's simplest pleasures.

Lance lived at a temple with other Chosens and was supposed to be content with his life of service and solitude. Descendants of some of the original Alteans who came from Oriande to establish their great society, Chosens carried in them a magic that grew separately from the Altean alchemy used to engineer their advanced technology.

Their magic was much stronger, many of them able to read thoughts, heal injuries, and control nature. They could change their appearance, with some of the more powerful ones being able to shift completely. Each Chosen developed magic a little differently based on their family line.

While they usually showed some predilection for magic, the distinction couldn't be made until children presented as omegas, thus activating the ancient code in their genes. Families would celebrate and the Chosen would leave their homes for the temple. They were exalted amongst the people, treated like celebrities whenever they traveled—something that was rare but did happen.

Chosen omegas manipulated quintessence, much like other magic Alteans, but their specialties varied from person to person.

Despite the variance, one cardinal tenet held fast for each of them: Chosen omegas could never mate.

If they were willing to go down that path, willing to break the laws of their people and take an alpha into their bed, they would lose their Altean magic. Their abilities were used to cloak Altea from their longest and most brutal enemy–the Galra.

Without Chosens, Altea would be left vulnerable, exposed to the violent empire that sought only to conquer and destroy. Shirking this sacred duty was a dishonorable taboo that would bring shame to any Altean family.

In exchange for giving their lives and the use of their powers for the greater good, Chosens were given luxurious rooms in temples spread across the planet. They wanted for nothing, save the one thing they could never have and the one thing an omega’s biological hunger craved the most.  

A breeze ruffled Lance's white hair as his crystalline blue gaze roamed lazily across the horizon, his tunic fluttering lightly around him.

He spent the majority of his life in a gilded cage. Which was fine, really. Lance accepted his place in society long ago, and was grateful that he had people he loved at his temple. A pack of sorts.

He just wished it wasn't so lonely. All the decadence in the world felt empty without someone to share it with.

If Allura could hear his thoughts right now, she'd be admonishing him for indulging in such childish nonsense and remind him that it was an honor and privilege to be Chosen. That he was one in a million Alteans born with the mysterious strain that had been passed down for generations, part of an exclusive group of powerful beings that learned the traditions of Oriande and protected them for the next generation.

Lucky for Lance, he mastered the art of cloaking his mind. A lecture from his cousin was the last thing he needed.

His depression hadn't affected his work yet, and he was determined not to let it, although guilt for resenting such cushy treatment ate away at him and added to his self-pity. Why couldn’t he just be happy with what he had? Such angst was an emotion unfamiliar to him, yet the older he got, the stronger it grew.

Omegas his age were supposed to settle down to start their packs. Perhaps that was somehow contributing to his sour mood.

He was trying to pull his thoughts in a brighter direction when his pointed ears flicked, the hair on his arms rising with a wave of shivers, his senses sharpening in preparation for something he couldn’t quite grasp.

Lance looked around, long legs swinging over the ledge he was resting on, fingers squeaking as they gripped against the marble in anticipation.

A sound like a clap of thunder rang out, accompanied by a shockwave that rolled angrily through the forest, startling birds into the air as it careened toward Lance, who had to brace himself against its force, unable to move out of its path in time.

His arm shot up to protect his face, dust and leaves rushing past him, littering his clothes with smudges. When it passed, he brushed off his face, blinking as he tried to gain his bearings.

Then he saw it–a spacecraft falling from the sky in a glorious blaze of fire, a thick, black trail of smoke behind it. Debris glittered out from the billowing ash as it entered the atmosphere and Lance watched in horror as it barreled toward Altea’s surface. He knew he should call for the guards but he sat frozen, looking on helplessly as the pod crashed, a small mushroom cloud forming to accompany the loud boom it made upon impact.

He shook off his stupor, hopping down from the ledge and rushing through his chamber to the hallway. Other doors cracked open and omegas peeked their heads out to see what was the matter. Lance heard the guards on the floor below shouting and running through the temple, his mental barriers lowering as he tried to read their thoughts, but there was too much chaos and confusion to get a good grasp on any one sentiment, so he slid his telepathic protections back in place.

“What's going on?” asked one of the younger omegas who stood in a cluster of four others, their shoulders hunched as the scent of fear rose from them, stinging Lance's nostrils.

“I'm sure it's nothing,” Lance replied, scrambling to plaster an easy smile on his lips so as not to frighten them further. “You stay here and look after one another while check and see what all the commotion is about.”

Lance left without looking back, making his way down to the main level in hurried strides, the sleeves of his lavender tunic swishing with each step, his sandals clicking against the stone floors.

The beta guards were on high alert and Lance could feel the tension radiating around them as he came up to the nearest group.

“Coran, what was that explosion?” he asked, recognizing the commander of the guards standing among them.

“Lance, I’m glad you’re here. We aren’t sure how a ship crashed through the defenses. Allura is in the command center, monitoring the situation so we need you to act as healer for our search party.”

“Of course.” Lance was already moving. “I’ll get ready and meet you back here in two dobashes.”

Lance ran back upstairs, calming the other omegas on his way and shooing them back to their rooms. His chamber was quiet, just as it had been before the explosion, but Lance wasted no time looking around, instead tearing through his wardrobe to find his uniform while using his magic to remove his jewelry and tuck it away.

He slipped on the white bodysuit before wrestling into the chest plate of his armor, pulling the rest of the lightweight grey-blue metal in place. He had a special circlet to wear as well, with a crystal that aided him in his healing abilities. Lance and Allura were the two most gifted Chosen at the temple, which was no surprise given their relation to the great alchemist, King Alfor. They were likely the best healers in all of Altea.

Lance checked himself once in the floor length mirror floating in the corner of his room, pleased with what he saw, and jogged back to where he left Coran.

“Ready?” Coran asked, the beta’s expression a mask of determination, orange brows knit together as his fingers twirled one end of his bushy mustache.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Lance answered with a smirk, his blood thrumming in his veins.

He hoped like hell no one needed his skills, but for the omega, an adventure out of the temple for a mission was always exciting. Omegas were seen as weak and needing protection, and Lance hated that stereotype. He enjoyed a good challenge and looked forward to any opportunity to defy the myth that omegas were meek, obedient, and should be coddled like children.

The group of six, with five beta guards and Lance, made their way to the temple’s hangar, departing in pairs on three moderately sized hovercrafts. They traveled faster than usual, flying through the forest, the pilots dodging trees with expert skill given the fading light, their crafts automatically producing headlights to guide their way.

Lance smelled the crash before he saw it, smoke starting to plume through the branches as they neared the site. Acrid vapors filled the air, the ground cracked and trees scorched and splintered in the wake of the downed ship.

Eventually, their party slowed to a stop, the two guards closest dismounting and slowly approaching the smoldering wreckage, their weapons drawn.  

“It’s a Galra pod!” one of them called and the others froze.

Lance stiffened, fear crawling up his spine and leaving him with a sick feeling of dread in his gut. He watched from a safe distance as one of the guards threw an Altean flame catcher on the ship, a device that immediately sucked the heat from any given object, putting out patches of fire and instantly cooling the metal.  

“One life sign detected,” Coran said, looking down at the tablet in his hand that scanned the ship.

The second guard pulled out the handle of a sword, swinging it down at her side so the bright blue blade, made of pure quintessence, burst to life. She looked to her partner, who gave her a nod and cut a jagged line down the side of the Galra pod, the other guard poised over her shoulder as she worked, weapon aimed at the cockpit.

Lance couldn’t see inside the vessel as they pried back a slab of metal, more smoke surging out. The guards coughed, trying to swat it away from their faces.

He couldn’t see, but he could  _ smell _ .

The omega’s gaze drifted shut as he inhaled, the smoke still thick enough to bring tears to his eyes, but beneath it was a scent so divine it set his heart racing in his chest.

“It’s a human!”

Lance leaped off the hovercraft, the scent beckoning him, curling around him like a velvet ribbon, his feet eating up the distance to the wreckage.

“Lance! You should stay back!”

Lance ignored Coran’s warning, shouldering between the two guards to look down at the gorgeous face of an unconscious human.

An alpha human.

Lance bent down to check and see if he was still breathing, relief flooding through him as he saw the rise and fall of the alpha’s chest.

His breath fanned out on Lance’s cheek and he had to suppress a shiver. It was fortunate that betas were not able to detect the pheromones that alphas and omegas let off, because Lance was responding to this strange alpha in ways he never experienced before.

“That isn’t a soldiers uniform,” the guard beside him commented, pointing to the human’s ragged clothing. “This alpha is a Galra slave.”

Lance’s heart lurched as he studied each detail of the alpha’s face. He reached his fingertips up to a cut on the alphas head and closed his eyes, channeling his abilities to heal the wound. A blue light radiated gently from him and it only took a few ticks for the cut to fade to a pale scar.

The alpha groaned, winged brows pulling together, the white tuft of hair at his crown damp with sweat.

Grey eyes cracked open, clouded over with confusion until they focused on Lance, immediately clearing. The alpha’s pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring as his scent became more potent, intoxicating Lance as he met the stranger’s stare.

The lush curve of his mouth cracked open.

“Help me.”

It was all the alpha said before he passed out and somehow, in some instinctual, immovable way, Lance knew that his life would never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, we get a look at the Altean temple from Shiro's perspective. Expect a bit of angst with some adorable fluff and ofc magicssss. Tell me nice things <3
> 
> As always, special thank you, to my fabulous beta reader, [@thelastthingweneedisanentmoot](https://thelastthingweneedisanentmoot.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Get at me on Tumblr -----> [@nihilistshiro](https://nihilistshiro.tumblr.com/)


	2. Hidden Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro wakes up but doesn't know what happened to him. Lance realizes that his attachment to the strange alpha might be more intense than he knows what to do with.

Shiro blinked, ears ringing sharply. His head throbbed behind his eyes as he tried to pry them open. His limbs were too heavy to move, and he let out an involuntary groan as he tried to swivel his head forward.

Shiro tried to get his vision to focus around hazy blue lights streaking across his blurry gaze. His brain felt frozen, as if the individual thoughts were there somewhere beneath the thick ice, flickering to life, but he couldn’t connect them.

“He’s awake.”

The voice seemed distant. Distorted.

He dragged in a deep breath through his nose, willing his heartbeat to slow, even as his mind remained a glacier of panic and darkness.

“How is he?” came a second voice.

The sound was molten honey, dripping warm and golden into the abyss of Shiro’s psyche. He could feel his racing heart calm, his body relaxing as his eyes landed on two blurry shapes across the room.

He breathed again, pulling another heavy breath into his lungs, and exhaling out. Something sharp and spicy hit his nostrils and he tried to quell a sudden rash of fire welling inside his chest, threatening to crack open his sternum.

He coughed, bolting upright, surprised to find his arms unrestrained.

“Easy. Easy, there,” the second voice implored as it moved closer.

Shiro’s world finally snapped into focus as a pair of sapphire eyes glinted above him. He would have mistaken the other man for a human if it weren’t for the snowy white hair and blue markings high on his cheeks.

“You’re on a planet called Altea. You’re safe.”

“H-how did I get here?” Shiro asked in a gruff daze, still trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. “The last thing I remember, I was...I was on a Galra cruiser headed toward Zarkon’s command.”

“You escaped,” the Altean answered, tilting his head to the side.

Shiro’s gaze flicked from the man’s pointed ears to the circlet around his head, then back to his peaceful stare. He huffed in another deep breath, the scent entirely intoxicating.

An omega.

Shiro’s blood thrummed with pleasure at his nearness, an instinctual reaction that the alpha could not control and wasn’t sure he fully understood.

“I’m sorry, I- I don’t know how I did it.”

“You arrived on our planet in a Galra pod. It crashed not far from this temple.”

Shiro wracked his brain for information, only to come up short.

“I can’t remember,” he murmured, more to himself than to his small audience.

Images flashed in his mind–the purple lights of the Galra laboratory, the face of the first being he killed in the gladiator pits, hard yellow eyes laughing with cruelty as he screamed.

“Takashi Shirogane,” the man said softly, his voice and his scent interrupting Shiro’s mental anguish. “My name is Lance and I am a healer here. No harm will come to you on Altea. We are hidden from the Galra.”

Shiro stared at the omega blankly.

“You can take as much time as you need to regain your strength and then we will grant you safe passage back to your homeworld.”

“How do you know my name?”  

“Do not be alarmed. I am able to read your thoughts. It is how we knew you would present us no danger.”

“You read my mind?” he asked, panic seeping into his tone.

“It was a necessary precaution. You are the first alpha to enter our midst in over three hundred years.”

“Lance, perhaps it’s best if you let our guest get some rest.”

Another man came into view, one with similar markings and orange hair. He was a beta, and Shiro could read the concern in his gaze as he looked between him and the omega who stood just within Shiro’s reach.

Lance’s expression changed, his scent still curling around Shiro, making him drowsy in its thick comfort, just not enough to ward off the panic clawing up his spine at the thought of more people in his head.

The omega must have sensed his unease.

“Sleep,” he murmured, touching his fingertips to Shiro’s temple.

The edges of Shiro’s vision grew foggy and he slumped back onto the table, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

Lance looked down at Takashi’s face. He had sharp features and a strong jaw, his face similar in structure to an Altean. His ears, however, were small and rounded and Lance wanted nothing more than to reach out and trace his finger along the delicate shell.

Coran cleared his throat and Lance stood upright, unaware that he had been practically climbing on the exam table to get a closer look at the alpha.

“He should go into a cryopod for now,” Coran said, hand resting on Lance’s shoulder. “You’ve healed most of his external wounds, but he’s been with the Galra for a long time and Allura thinks he might even have been sick before he was kidnapped.”

Lance looked down at Coran’s fingers against the blue fabric of his tunic. The beta’s touch was something he’d known since childhood. Coran was practically an uncle to Lance and Allura, and yet suddenly the casual gesture felt uncomfortable, his skin itching beneath the heat of Coran’s palm.

He politely stepped back.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Lance said, eyes falling back to Takashi.

Lance immediately threw up his mental barriers. He'd gotten a glimpse of Shiro's pain and it felt like a violation of the alpha’s privacy to dig into memories. His mind was actively working to block them out, and if Lance went snooping around, he could knock some unpleasant

There was no doubt the human would need extensive therapy to recover his strength. For all the work Lance had done thus far and the benefits of the sleep chamber, the alpha’s mind was dangerously unstable. His right arm had been replaced with one of Galran design, and although it seemed to be deactivated while he recovered, it could pose a potential threat to Altea, so something would have to be done.

He wondered idly if Allura and Uncle Alfor could help him design a new model. He also wondered how he could go so attached to a stranger. An alpha no less.

His cousin would be furious.

Takashi had barely spoken a full sentence to him and the sound of his voice was already carved into the caverns of Lance’s mind. His scent had been just as potent as the day he landed in the forest, crisp and heady. Even as Lance made his way to the common area, it burned in his nostrils, tempting the omega to turn back like a siren calling out to him.

“Lance? Is it true there’s an alpha staying at the temple?”

Lance turned to see his friend Romelle walking towards him. The omega was a few years older than Lance, her blonde hair pulled back into two intricate plaits that fell well past her shoulders, which were covered with a delicate pink gown that wrapped around her body and billowed down her long legs.

“Yeah,” Lance replied waiting for her to join him before they entered the main hall at the temple’s center.

There were other omegas about, lounging in spacious vestibules that lined the hall. Massive marble pillars stood tall around the room, holding up the stone and dividing the alcoves. In the middle of the hall, there was a glowing blue hologram of Altea, shifting and pulsing as it tracked the stability of the planet and the ever-present shield around it that the Chosens produced to keep Altea hidden and safe.

Guards stood in the corners and intermittently between the pillars, a few of them in conversation with the Chosens who were taking a break from their work or eating a morning meal. The general air was relaxed and calm and completely at odds with the frenzied nature of Lance’s thoughts as images of Takashi and his potent aroma still haunted him.

“Is it true that he escaped from the Galra?”

Although Romelle kept fear from her voice, there was a faint air of it in her scent. Lance was polite enough to ignore it as he followed her one of the pillowed alcoves. The Galra were the stuff of nightmares, the bloodthirsty monsters that starred in tales told to Altean children at bedtime.

“Yes,” Lance replied as they folded into the cushions, sitting close together. He told her of the Galra escape pod from the night before, the way it crashed through the forest, and the injured alpha discovered inside.

“Weren’t you frightened? It could have been a Galra assassin in that ship.”

“Of course,” Lance admitted, watching Romelle’s purple gaze round with surprise. “When the guard identified the craft as Galra, I felt my stomach drop out. But when they finally pried the door off, the alpha’s scent rose up around me and I–”

Lance stopped mid-sentence, unable to describe exactly what happened to him when he first got a whiff of Takashi.

“May I?” Romelle asked, her hand outstretched toward Lance.

He nodded.

Romelle placed her hand on his shoulder and her purple eyes went entirely white. Her Chosen abilities allowed her to embody an individual’s past, feeling and thinking everything from their perspective.

A small gasp left her and her hand jolted from Lance as if she’d been burned.

“Lance!” she whispered harshly, a blush staining her cheeks in bright contrast to her teal markings. “How can you lust after him? You know as well as I do the alpha cannot stay.”

“And you know that my reaction to him is beyond my control,” he replied, trying to bite back his annoyance.

Romelle’s face softened. “I know.”

“Promise you won’t say anything to Allura.”

Romelle’s gaze darted to the side for a tick, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she thought it over.

“I promise,” she finally said, voice soft.

“Promise what?”

Lance and Romelle both froze as Allura sidled up to them.

“Erm...I promised Lance that I, uh, would–”

“She promised to go to the pool with me later,” Lance covered with a grin born of nervousness that he hoped Allura couldn’t see through.

She arched a white brow at him.

“You two can go to the pool later,” she said, her turquoise eyes locking on Lance. “Right now, we’re needed in the control room.”

Lance let out a small breath of relief, his gaze flicking to Romelle who looked equally glad.

“Okay.”

He left Romelle in the nook and followed Allura to the rear entrance of the common area.

“How is the Galra?” Allura asked, her voice chilly.

“You mean the human?” Lance countered, studying his cousin’s curious expression.

“He has been living with the Galra for who knows how long. I cannot believe you talked Coran into keeping him here, and without restraints no less. What if he is a spy?”

Lance felt hot anger lick his stomach, but he kept from lashing out, concerned that his cousin would quickly decipher just how attached he was with their visitor.

“He was a slave there, Allura. Surely, you don’t think–”

“I think that you can never underestimate the Galra,” she shot back angrily as she placed her hand on a small pad guarding a heavy door.

It slid open upon reading her print, revealing a dark stairwell that spiraled down to the control center. Silence stretched between them as they followed the steps down, down, down, a soft blue glow from sconces mounted on the curved walls activating when they passed. Lance had to work extensively to control the slithering sea of thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him, lest Allura sense his inner turmoil.

It felt like an eternity before they reached the bottom, the landing deep beneath the temple. They met another security door with two beta guards standing watch and nodded to them as they passed. Allura opened it in the same fashion as the one above and motioned Lance inside. Blue lights flickered on, illuminating the dark cavern. In the center was a giant crystal, milky in color, the iridescent stone shot through with streaks of orange and green and blue.

On the north and south sides of the chamber, pedestals rose from the floor, adapted from the temple’s original and ancient design. The cousins split up, each of them stepping up between the pedestals, their hands resting on them until they lit up.

Lance waited for Allura’s eyes to meet his. She wore a circlet that was almost identical to his, save for the color of the stone. As they started the protection ritual, their Altean markings began to glow, as did their circlets.

There was no set time on how long it took to reinforce the shields surrounding Altea, an effort that had to be made three times daily, usually by different pairs of Chosens to avoid overexertion. Lance and Allura performed the ritual at least once every quintent as the most powerful Chosen at their temple.

The magic flowed through them, the opalescent crystal pulsing, the colors shifting as they continued, motes of energy glittering around it and dissipating into the air. It was peaceful. Purposeful. The familiar pulsing of quintessence as it traveled through him and into the crystal letting freeing him from the maelstrom of thoughts that had been plaguing him.

He let go of his conversation with Romelle, of the liquid silver of Takashi’s eyes, of everything but the steady beating of his heart and the task at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta, Shanny! Love you boo!
> 
> I hope y'all are enjoying the fic so far!! Tell me nice things here or on Tumblr ---> [@nihilistshiro](https://nihilistshiro.tumblr.com/)


	3. Sweet Buns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro gets a good look at himself for the first time and Lance does his best to offer his support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BE WARNED this chapter has some angst.

When Shiro awoke next, he was alone in an unfamiliar room. He squinted against the sunlight coming in through a large window, the sun’s warmth a sensation he didn’t recognize immediately.

His body was stiff and he swung his legs over the side of a plush bed. His shoulders popped when he stretched his arms high above his head and rolled his neck in a slow circle. A soft white shirt covered his chest and matching pants floated down to the stone floor.

Shiro wondered briefly if he’d actually died on that ship and this was heaven.

The window was closed and when he stood to open it his legs nearly buckling beneath his weight, knees aching as he wobbled.

“Woah.”

Still alive, then.

He made his way over to the window and pushed against the glass, surprised when it opened readily. A warm breeze ruffled his hair and he closed his eyes, breathing in deep through his nose and for a moment, everything was fine.

He reached a hand out to steady himself against the sill. The metal of his prosthetic glinted in the sunlight and with it, Shiro’s reverie was broken. He let out a choked gasp and a heavy sob, falling to his knees, one hand twisting in the fabric of his shirt, just above his heart, while the other clung to the windowsill for dear life.

Alone with his thoughts, Shiro mourned the trauma he suffered. A chasm of grief opened inside him—for his body, for the time he’d lost, and for how utterly helpless he’d been while captive.

His eyes burned and his throat felt raw and he knew he should stop before someone came to find him, but he couldn’t control the shudder of his shoulders or the dull ache clawing up his chest. He staggered to his feet, the cheery sunshine a stark contrast to his misery.  

Shiro noticed a full-length mirror propped up against the far wall of his chamber and walked over to it, peeling off his shirt as he went. He stopped a few inches from it and his cries transformed into a silent gape as he took in the damage done to his body. He’d never seen it in the Gladiator pits, his cell a dark hole that afforded no reflective surfaces.

Scars marred his skin in all shapes and sizes. The fingers of his human hand traced along a particularly brutal line that wrapped around his middle. Another puckered at his collarbone. There were so many his neck hurt from twisting to catch a glimpse of them all.

There were marks on the sides of his throat, too. Jagged lines dragged across his scent glands. Lines that he'd put there himself when the Galra had used omega pheromones to get him to perform better in the ring and he’d tried to claw them out.

His eyes finally landed on the prosthetic. The flesh of his arm was dark pink where it connected to the Galra metal and the healed scar tissue reminded him of bubble gum that had been chewed up and spit out, stuck to the advanced machinery.

He watched as the hand curled into a fist with a groan of horror as his despair quickly transformed into seething anger.

So much had been taken from him.

Shiro’s voice carried, a howl of rage that pulled from the wounds that still festered inside him, echoing around the otherwise tranquil room. His arm pulled back and smashed into the mirror, shattering it into a thousand glistening shards. He watched them litter the floor, fragments of his ragged face staring back, reflecting the fractured man that stood above them.

Shiro wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring at the shards that scattered across the blue tile floor, but eventually, he grew numb, hovering in an out of body experience.

A knock sounded on the door and he carefully stepped away from the glass, scooping up his shirt and tugging it over his head as he padded to the entryway.

Shiro closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath and pushing it out through his nose, willing himself to calm. He scrubbed a hand across his face, and although his tears were dry, he was certain the red around his eyes and nose would give him away.

The knock sounded again, a muffled double staccato.

He had to clear his throat twice before his voice obeyed.

“Yes?” he said through the door.

After a moment he heard a soft reply.

“Takashi?”

Shiro recognized Lance’s voice, the only thing about Altea that seemed familiar. He opened the door and was once again hit with the potency of the omega’s scent.

“I thought..” Lance trailed off, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought you might like to get out of your chamber for a bit and take a walk around the temple grounds,” he said, a tentative smile on his full lips.

Shiro wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. He still felt numb after his meltdown but the omega’s presence was breathing life back into him. He nodded but hesitated before stepping out of the chamber.

“Um.” He looked down to his bare feet. “I...don’t have any shoes.”

Lance let out a chuckle, the sound resonating in Shiro’s chest as the omega pushed past him into the room. He stopped abruptly when he spotted the broken mirror but said nothing of it.

“This is your chamber to use during your stay with us.” He crossed the room to a wardrobe that Shiro hadn’t noticed before, opening one side to reveal hanging clothes and three pairs of shoes. “In here, you’ll find everything you need. What you have on now is sleepwear.”

Shiro plucked at the lightweight fabric.

“I’ll give you a few ticks to change,” Lance said, walking toward the door. He paused. “And I’ll have someone come and clear out the mess.”

Shiro’s eyes shot up to meet Lance’s cool gaze.

“It’s been a rough morning,” he said, holding Lance’s gaze.

“First of all, it’s afternoon,” Lance said, hand on one hip. “And secondly, you just escaped a Galra prison and crash-landed on a strange planet. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Shiro didn’t know how to respond, unaccustomed to the easy acceptance Lance offered. He wondered if the Altean was able to read his memories of what happened to him.

“Yes, I can,” Lance said. “But I won’t. I can’t imagine you’d want me digging around in something you’d rather forget. Now hurry up and change. We might be able to grab a snack from the kitchens on our way out.”

Lance left and Shiro stood in the center of the unfamiliar room until his stomach growled, reminding him to get a move on. He selected a gray shirt that hit mid-thigh with white trim along the deep-v collar and a pair of stretchy white pants that reminded him of leggings he’d seen on Earth, which fit better than he expected. Apparently, Alteans didn’t use socks or undergarments because the leggings were footed and he couldn’t find briefs anywhere.

After tugging on a pair of silver boots, he was ready to see what the day had in store. Maybe it was the omega waiting for him or the fact that he was too emotionally drained from earlier to be apprehensive. Either way, Shiro felt an overwhelming sense of calm as he stepped into the hall.

Lance was leaning against a wall, hands tucked behind him. He was wearing a different circlet than their previous encounter, this one made of thin gold chain with swooping accents the covered his white hair. A jade-like stone that was carved into an intricate teardrop shape dripped from the middle, resting against Lance’s forehead.

The omega’s clothes were of a similar fashion to what Shiro found in the wardrobe, but seemed better fitted to the omega’s lean frame. His shirt matched the jade on his circlet but had a wide neck that exposed his delicate collarbones.

An image flashed in Shiro’s mind of his lips trailing along that fine line and he hastily remembered that the omega was a mind reader and flushed a deep red.

Lance cleared his throat, the pink dusting his cheeks an indication that he’d caught Shiro’s inappropriate thought. “Let’s get a move on, shall we?”

Shiro fell in step beside Lance and turned his thoughts to his surroundings. The corridor was broken up with large pillars that allowed the afternoon sunlight to spill inside. Each opening was flanked by gauzy white curtains and a gentle breeze ruffled them as they passed.

“So, we’re on Altea? Why haven’t I heard of it before?”

“Our planet won’t register with censors or appear on any map. That is how we’ve been able to flourish as a species with the Galra Empire waging war across the star system. We are completely hidden, thanks to temples like this one and omegas like myself.”

Shiro gave Lance a quizzical look, following the Altean down a spiral staircase to the ground floor. They passed other Alteans—all omegas—who gave Shiro curious stares and whispered in their wake. While he could still scent them, it was as if they were diluted by a fresh rain, so overpowering was the man walking just ahead of him.

“How many of you are there?” Shiro asked, trying to take in the various Alteans he passed.

Some looked quite human, but none had the white hair that Lance did.

“There are two hundred of us in this temple, but there are six other temples like ours spread across the planet. Together, we use Altean magic to produce the cloaking that keeps us hidden.”

They reached a large door that had a sophisticated touchpad for entry access. The entire place was a dichotomy of elegant technology layered over an ancient structure.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Lance smiled at him. “It’s simple, Takashi. I told you already that I’ve assessed you are not a threat to us.”

The omega placed his hand on the screen and the door slid open to reveal a bustling kitchen. He stepped inside, but Shiro remained frozen in the hall.

“What?”

“You believe in me so readily?”

“Mind-reader, remember?” Lance said, tapping a finger to his temple. “Besides, if I really wanted to, I could just wipe the last five minutes from your mind.”

Shiro looked appalled.

“I said I could! Not that I was going to, geesh. Now come on, let’s get something to eat.”

Lance’s warm hand circled Shiro’s wrist and tugged him into the kitchens. Shiro had to suppress a shiver, a shock racing up his arm and jumpstarting his heart. The alpha swallowed hard, following Lance along as they toured the spacious kitchens and stole two Altean sweet buns.

It was a whirlwind for Shiro, who simply smiled and tried not to look like a deer in the headlights as Lance introduced him to the staff and showed him around. Eventually, they made their way outside where the sun was still high enough to spill golden light across the forested landscape that surrounded the temple.

Lance chattered as they walked, telling Shiro more about his life on Altea and how the Chosen worked to protect the planet from the Galra, and the alpha found himself soothed by the cadence of Lance’s tone.

They made their way along a well-worn path that was etched into the hillside, drawing them further and further from the temple. The ground was covered with plant life, including a magnificent magenta flower that decorated the greenery like bows on a Christmas wreath.

Eventually, Lance veered off the trail, brushing past shrubbery and some smaller trees. They’d been climbing for some time, and when they finally stopped they were gifted a view of the temple and valley surrounding it. There were mountains far off in the distance, but the forest was so vast it was as if they were separated by a green sea.

Lance sat near the edge of the grassy hill. It dropped off a few meters down, cut with brown rock, but didn’t quite classify as a cliff. He patted the ground next to him and gave Shiro a warm grin that bordered on mischievous.

“This is my secret hangout. I’ve been coming here since I was young, just to get away.”

Altea was a new world and Shiro was so curious about it he felt like he couldn’t blink or he would miss some vital detail. About the planet and the temple.

About Lance.

“Is it exhausting listening to people’s thoughts all day?”

Lance chuckled. “Yeah, it definitely can be. Sometimes I put up a mental barrier that keeps them out, but that can be draining, too.”

Shiro studied Lance’s profile, noting not for the first time that the omega was exceptionally handsome with his high cheekbones and full lips.

“What always surprises me is how lonely it is. You’d think someone with my abilities would feel connected, but most of the time it feels like I’m...on the outside looking in.”

He tore off a piece of his sweet bun and popped it into his mouth, sucking the sticky frosting from his thumb and forefinger.

“I know a thing or two about being lonely,” Shiro said. “But you are here because you care about your planet. You want to protect people. You’ve given up life with your family to do it, too. I think that makes you brave.”

“T-thank you,” Lance said, laughing awkwardly as he took another bite of his treat. His entire life, he’d pictured alphas to be insensitive brutes, and his few encounters with them had only solidified this notion. Takashi was something else entirely.

“So why only omegas? Are you the only ones who are Chosen?”

“Yeah, the magic is only passed down to omegas. It sucks sometimes. I mean, I’m not saying I want to mate and have babies right this second, but knowing I never can is something that’s been getting at me lately.”

“Never?”

“Nope,” Lance said, popping the ‘p.’ “Part of taking on this job is also taking a vow of celibacy. Apparently, you lose your magic if you mate and it’s never really bugged me before but the older I get, the more I wonder just how much of a sacrifice I’m making.”

Shiro was silent. He tucked into his sweet bun, turning over the news that Lance could never take a mate and wondering why it bothered him so much.

“I’m sorry about this morning. Destroying that mirror. I’m glad you showed up when you did, who knows what other furniture might’ve gotten punched,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, that.” Lance’s eyes dropped and he tapped his feet nervously. “Um, there’s something I should probably tell you.”

“What?”

“That mirror is actually an Altean magic device that we use to keep an eye on people. I saw...you. This morning. That’s why I decided to check on you.”

Lance braced himself for the alpha’s anger but it never came. He looked over and Takashi was simply staring at the landscape, his knees bent and arms looped around them. He looked vulnerable. Thoughtful.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. When I was with the Galra, I had no privacy. They were constantly watching me. Prodding me.”

He raised his metal arm and made a fist.

“Experimenting on me. Here, I don’t feel threatened. I understand why you’d want to monitor an outsider.”

Lance felt lower than low. The fact that any of his behavior could trigger memories of the Galra was disturbing.

They sat in silence a while longer, finishing their sweet buns. It was a peaceful silence, and Shiro eventually felt his eyelids droop.

“You must still be tired. Let’s get you inside.”

On the way back to the temple, Lance asked Shiro about his home and his family. Safe subjects, even though the Altean already knew about the Garrison and Keith from reading Shiro’s memories.

He liked the timbre of Takashi’s deep voice. Lance escorted him back to his chamber, and they arrived just in time to see a team of two Altean guards bringing in a new mirror.

Shiro said nothing and Lance didn’t need to see into the alpha’s mind to know he was irritated. His ticking jaw and the sharp rise in his scent said as much. The thought of Takashi seeing the mirror and associating him with his captors made Lance’s blood boil.

“That won’t be necessary.” Lance’s voice rang with authority, his head held high as he stepped into the room. “Please take it away.”

The guards shared a puzzled look before shrugging and carting the mirror away.

“Thank you,” Shiro said. “That means a lot to me, Lance.”

His name on Takashi’s tongue sent an unexpected jolt of heat to the omega’s core. He stammered out his response, blushing furiously and hoping like hell his scent stayed clean.

“Oh, um. It’s n-nothing, really, hehe.”

Shiro opened his mouth to say more but decided to let the subject drop.

“Go get some rest now,” Lance said awkwardly, his cheeks pinker than a juniberry. “Feel free to make your way back down to the kitchens. You can feed me. I mean, eat me. I mean you can get more food if you’re hungry.”

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Alrighty then. Catch ya later.”

Lance spun on his heel and hightailed it outta there before he could make an even bigger fool of himself. He went straight to his chamber, leaning against the door when it whooshed shut behind him, his heart hammering in his chest.

Even as he admonished himself for his clumsy words, joy unlike any he’d ever known spread in his chest, exploding into a wondrous smile that he could wipe off.

This alpha was going to be trouble and Lance couldn’t wait.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you liking it so far??? Leave me a note! 
> 
> Thank you to Shanny and Brit for beta-reading!!! 
> 
> For more lil bitty nuggets of content, check me out on Twitter---->[@nihilistshiro](https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro)


	4. Clearing the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Allura have a heart to heart about Lance’s feelings for Shiro, meanwhile Lance decides to broach the sticky subject of helping Shiro heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Now that we’re done with setting up our tale, things are going to be moving quickly! I’m trying to be more productive and get updates done faster.
> 
> Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Lance drew back his bow, an arrow of shimmering blue quintessence pressing into his cheek as he took aim. There was a gladiator drone sprinting toward him, sword drawn, heavy metal feet clanking against the stone floor of the training hall. 

Lance took a deep breath and on his exhale released the arrow. It whistled through the air, striking the drone solidly in the eye and knocking it to the ground.

The metal fragments evaporated into thin air, but three more were dropping down to take its place.

“When are we gonna talk about it?” Allura asked from high left. She released three arrows in one go, dispatching the gladiators with deadly efficiency.

“What is there to talk about?” Lance tried to keep his tone from being defensive and failed. “Doesn’t it bother you  _ at all _ that our practices compare to those of the Galra?”

“We have a good reason for monitoring the human.” Allura’s eyes were bright with anger as she spoke, her white hair pulled back from her face in a severe style that matched her mood. “He is an alpha. His body has been modified by Galra tech. For all we know, that witch is using him to spy on us. So no. It doesn’t bother me.”

“How can you say that? I already confirmed he was a prisoner, not an accomplice.” Lance flicked his wrist, his bow collapsing back into its smaller form and melding with his bodysuit. “Do you hate the Galra so much that you would stoop down to their level to win?”

Allura opened her mouth to reply but Lance didn’t let her.

“You’re my cousin and I love you. We’ve been close our entire lives, but I’m worried you’re losing sight of what’s important.”

“What’s important is protecting our people!” Allura snapped, pointing the sharp tip of her Altean long bow at Lance’s chest. “ _ You _ are the one who is blinded, cousin. This incident with the mirror is a perfect example! Do you think I can’t see the way you look at him? The way your scent changes when he’s around?”

Lance swallowed, unable to defend against such a truthful accusation.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed that you block your thoughts from me now?”

Lance’s upper lip curled back in a snarl. “My thoughts are still my own and you aren’t entitled to a front row seat just because you have the ability. Why are you treating me like a child?”

“Because you’re acting like one!”

For a tick, they stared into each other’s eyes, a spark of fury crackling between them. Allura pressed her bow into Lance’s chest before walking away. “Don’t make me take this to the High Council.”

“Allura, you can’t be serious. I may be attracted to him, but I’m still here, aren’t I? The tighter you try to make my leash, the harder I’ll want to tug.”

Allura stopped, turning to look over her shoulder.

“I know that you’re scared and that you feel an obligation to protect everyone,” Lance said, stepping closer to her, “but when you tell me you don’t care that your methods are the same as our enemy, I know you’re speaking from a place of hatred.”

Allura’s expression softened, her eyes searching Lance’s face. “Haggar tried to kill my father. She nearly destroyed Altea with her dark magic.”

“I know. I know that our work here is important and I know the Galra have done unspeakable things.” Lance put a hand on Allura’s arm, “but now is our chance to help someone else who they’ve hurt. Shiro is a good man and he deserves our respect.”

Allura looked down, her cheeks pink. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But I am worried about you. You’ve never once been questioning your place with the Chosen. This outsider is changing you.”

Lance looked into Allura’s eyes, letting Allura into his mind. He thought of the doubts that had been creeping in since before Shiro landed. He thought of his strong love of Altea and his family and the internal conflict it waged inside him when he wondered about a life apart from them.

Then he thought of Shiro as he looked at himself in the mirror, a broken slave with a battered body. Of the softness in his voice when he spoke to Lance on the hillside.

Tears slipped from Allura’s lashes.

“I can’t help what I feel, Allura, and I  _ need _ to help him.”

The depth of his attraction no longer frightened Lance, but he could tell that Allura’s brief exposure to it had shaken her.

“I understand,” she said at length, her hand on Lance’s shoulder. “I will keep this between us, but promise me one thing.”

Lance nodded.

“Promise me that if things get serious between you, you won’t shut me out again. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I tend to jump to the worst conclusion when I feel...helpless.”

Lance gave her a soft smile. “I promise that if things get serious, you’ll be the first to know.”

She returned his smile.

“But I’m definitely not letting you in on the sexy bits. That’s just gross.”

Allura punched him in the arm as he cackled.

“You’re ridiculous!”

They left the training deck and made their way to the mess hall. It was the first time since Lance had been having anxiety about his place at that temple that he actually felt relaxed around his cousin. Like they were five again and it was them against the world, racing the halls of the temple and raising hell.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it.

 

* * *

 

 

“Everything is so soft,” Shiro said, his fingers rubbing yet another luxurious fabric in the temple’s impressive production wing.

The space housed looms and mirrors, mannequins covered with prototypes, and bolt after bolt of cloth—some practical and some decadent.

Lance chuckled, taking the powder blue material from Shiro and handing it to the closest seamstress, who took it with a smile.

“I think we should do a tunic in this,” Lance said, and the seamstress nodded in agreement.

After hours of poking and prodding Shiro almost regretted agreeing to come with Lance, but he’d insisted. Apparently the few utilitarian outfits Shiro had weren’t a sufficient wardrobe for any self-respecting person.

Fortunately, the look on Lance’s face made the whole ordeal worth it.

He picked out fabrics and draped them across Shiro, his excitement palpable. So far, he'd ordered a series of tunics and leggings, boots, capes, robes, and other garments that Shiro had no name for.

The seamstresses matched Lance's enthusiasm. They proposed several designs based on traditional alpha garb—something they rarely got to work on at the temple. These outfits were more rigid, with bolder colors and sharper lines.

"What about this?" one of the seamstresses asked, holding up a sketch of an elaborate outfit that looked to Shiro like something a prince would wear in a Disney movie.

"Ooh, yes! We need to have at least one fancy outfit." Lance said.

"We do?" Shiro asked, his arms out at his sides as fabric was wrapped around his chest.

The Altean technology was truly impressive, blending their traditional weaving practices with state-of-the-art production methods. There were consoles that projected holographic samples of a given design on a live model and others that printed the fabric as soon as the design was completed.

Shiro waited for them to finish uploading the pattern for his alpha formal wear before stepping up to the projection station, watching as the outfit took shape.

The translucent quintessence forming the hologram shimmered as he moved. The shape reminded him of military regalia, but instead of the drab colors and rigidity of traditional Garrison uniforms, this was whimsical. It flowed across his skin, layers of cobalt fabric crisscrossed along his broad chest.

The outfit had a built-in cape, something he was coming to recognize as prominent in Altean fashions.

“Oh, yeah. That definitely suits you.”

Shiro turned to look at Lance and felt his cheeks go pink as all the other omegas turned to eye him up. They were nodding in agreement, their scents all warming in an attempt to lure him closer.

“Um, thanks.” Shiro coughed awkwardly, stepping down from the projection area and rubbing a hand along his nape. “I think that’s enough for now.”

He was hyper aware of how the basic bodysuit he wore clung to his muscles and did his best to ignore the stares that came his way as he made a speedy retreat.

“Hey, wait up!” Lance called as he followed Shiro out into the corridor. “I’m sorry if that was awkward for you.”

“It’s alright,” Shiro said, slowing so that Lance could fall into step beside him. “I just haven’t really….interacted with so many omegas at once in a while.”

For a brief flash, Shiro was sent back to the arena, to the holding cells where omegas in heat were paraded around in order to get the alphas riled up. They were the only omegas he’d been exposed to in Galra captivity and the memory made bile rise in his throat.

Lance’s hand on his arm brought him back to the present.

“Where did you go?” Lance asked, although the horror in his blue gaze told Shiro that he already knew the answer.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m right back there,” Shiro said softly, stopping in his tracks, his shoulders slumped. He opened his mouth to say more, but thought better of it.

How could he explain to someone who had lived their entire life nestled in the safety Lance was privy to?

“I wish I could forget,” he said finally.

“That’s something I want to talk to you about,” Lance said. “You know how the Chosen are a special type of Altean? With certain magical abilities?”

Shiro nodded, his dark brows pulled together as he gave Lance his full attention.

“I have an ability that’s pretty rare among the Chosen. It allows me to heal traumatic memories.”

“Like a hypnotist or something?”

“No, not quite. It’s more like going in and covering old wounds with a healing balm that helps them settle and fade.”

“Going in? Like going into my head?” Shiro instinctively took a step back, the hair on the back of his neck rising.

“Well, yes,” Lance said, voice rushed, “but not at first. It’s something we would have to work our way up to.”

“We,” Shiro repeated, not a question but a prickle of hope. A confirmation.

“We,” Lance said. “I don’t know what the High Council would say about me helping an outsider, one that I am friendly with, no less. This type of magic is very sacred and some of the older omegas around here get a little twitchy when tradition isn’t 100% followed.”

“I don’t want you to get in—“

“It’s nothing,” Lance said with a wave of his hand and a smirk on his lips. “I’m not going to get in trouble.”

Shiro didn’t think Lance sounded particularly convincing and gave the omega a skeptical look.

“Besides, I haven’t exactly decided that’s what we’re gonna do.” Lance turned and began walking, his jaw set in an agitated line.

Shiro jogged to catch up, looking down at the omega’s complexion and wondering why the hell a prince of Altea would go out of high way for a castaway like him.

“Wait, I didn’t mean that you aren’t capable of helping me. I’m sure you’d be great at it.”

Lance didn’t acknowledge that Shiro had spoken.

“Listen to me,” he said, grabbing Lance’s wrist and drawing him to a halt. “Look, I’m sure that it’s very honorable of you to offer your help. I’m grateful, I really am.”

Shiro tried to burn his appreciation into his stare, pinning Lance with an unguarded look that brought a stain to the omega’s cheeks.

“I just don’t want to make things difficult for anyone. At the Galaxy Garrison we were taught not to interfere with matters of a planet’s culture and society. It would go against my training to allow you to—“

“Did your training have anything about fighting to the death in a quiznaking pit? Hmm?”

Shiro gaped at Lance. The omega wrenched his hand free and poked a finger into Shiro’s chest.

“You are a survivor, Takashi Shirogane. You went through hell, which I’ve already seen, by the way. It was all there when I first checked you over. And if you think that I’m going to watch you suffer unnecessarily when I can damn well do something about—“

“Alright,” Shiro said with a grin, unable to help it after seeing Lance so animated. “Alright. I’ll think about it.”

Lance took a moment to pull in deep breaths, calming himself before he spoke. “Thank you,” he said with a brilliant smile.

“You’re welcome,” Shiro said with a crooked grin of his own.

“Can I at least show you something that might help with your nightmares? No head stuff, just a place in the temple you can go if you’re ever feeling overwhelmed.”

“Are you sure I’m allowed?” Shiro asked.

Lance glared at him as he tugged him down the hall until they reached the top of a spiral staircase. Long thin fingers were wrapped around Shiro’s wrist and if Lance moved another centimeter, he’d be brushing against Shiro’s gland.

He watched Lance’s profile to see if their closeness was having an effect on him, but he couldn’t keep his gaze from dropping to Lance’s lips.

The thin column of his throat.

A collarbone exposed by his outfit that was so perfectly curved, Shiro wanted to brush his lips along the line of it to see what noises Lance would make.

Lance cleared his throat and Shiro’s eyes snapped forward. The air between them was muggy, Shiro’s scent rolling off of him in waves, so thick with lust that he was genuinely embarrassed.

Until he caught the clean, sweet line of Lance’s own desire echoing in response. It was enough for him to take an audible breath, sighing as a shiver ran down his spine.

An awkward silence stretched between them, layering across the fog of their twin thirst.

Fuck.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

Before Shiro could ask to go back, Lance was slowing down. They reached the bottom step where there was only a single archway.

The archway had Altean script etched above it, glowing a pale blue. More light blinked from beyond the strange passage. Lance turned to smile at him, dropping his wrist as he walked through to the room beyond.

Shiro followed and was surprised to find himself in an underground cavern that was completely overgrown with lush vegetation. It was a fantasy jungle with a winding path of glistening white rocks that formed a walking path. They were smooth and milky, similar to marble Shiro had seen back on earth.

The path trailed toward a massive central tree that looked like it was holding the ceiling up with its sprawling branches.

Everything was covered with a bioluminescent vine that looked like it was dripping in small blue lights. It wove around the flowers and bushes on the forest floor and drizzled along the ceiling.

Shiro felt like he was in a tropical rainforest, and while the air was muggy, it wasn’t too hot. It was almost like being underwater. There were creatures that also glowed, probably due to a diet that consisted of the over abundant vine. A kaleidoscope of butterflies wafted past them, colorful wings flapping and reflecting the light.

A low hum of bass thrummed around the cavern to mingle with the sound of trickling water and the chirp of small birds. Shiro was about to call out to Lance, but noticed other Alteans, who looked up from where they were sitting among the plants that carpeted the jungle floor. They looked like they were in a prayer circle, all holding hands, their eyes on Shiro as he and Lance walked past.

Shiro bent down to whisper in Lance’s ear. “What is this place?”

They passed on older woman, who nodded to them and Lance gave her a smile, briefly touching her hand.

“This is our spiritual garden,” Lance said, turning to walk backwards, his palms spread wide. “It’s a sacred space that has been tended by generations of Chosen omegas. We plant things here that calm the mind and allow you to connect with the energy flowing inside of you. People come here to surround themselves with the true nature.”

They walked to the tree, which was bigger than any tree Shiro had seen on Earth. It was easily ten times wider than a Redwood and stretched up to connect to the cavern, like a support beam. Lance described it as a garden, but it was overgrown and wild, even as the path carved neatly through the lush vegetation.

“This is a gyam tree. They were planted beneath each of the Chosen temples to help regenerate the crystals we use in our magic. The vine you see lighting everything up comes from a living planet called a Balmera. It interacts with the gyms tree to create this entire ecosystem.”

At Shiro’s stunned silence Lance let out a bright laugh. A stray butterfly chose that moment to flit over to them and Lance put out his finger so it could rest.

“Don’t you have places like this on Earth?” Lance asked.

“Nothing quite so beautiful,” Shiro said, voice gruff.

Lance looked up and met Shiro’s heavy-lidded gaze. His markings were almost the same shade of blue as the pulsing atmosphere that surrounded them.

Shiro wished for a moment that it as just the two of them and that he could actually act on his feelings for Lance. That the jungle was theirs alone. That he could see the rest of Lance’s beautiful skin glow blue. Did Alteans have markings elsewhere?

“You’re welcome to come here anytime you need to collect your thoughts,” Lance said, hands twisting nervously behind his back. Shiro’s scent was starting to overpower the aroma of the garden’s many flowers.

He really needed to get a handle on himself or he was going to be in some deep shit.

“Thank you,” he sai. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. My manners are a bit out of practice.”

To his surprise Lance stepped closer, caressing the side of his own neck, gently pressing the gland until a few beads of slick oil dribbled onto his fingers.

“I’m happy to help you practice anytime, Takashi,” Lance said, touching his hand to Shiro’s chest.

For a moment, the other Alteans, the beautiful garden, all of it fell away. Then Lance stepped back, breaking the spell.

“You’ve had a big day. We better get you back to your quarters.”

With that, Lance turned on his heel and left Shiro standing in the middle of a sacred spirit garden that was probably older than human civilization, with the scent of willing omega clinging to his shirt.

A big day, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my tiddy crew for beta reading!! I love you guys!
> 
> More from me on Twitter ——> @NihilistShiro


	5. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro gets more comfortable at the temple and Lance performs his first healing session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER GETS DARK YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

The next few days passed in a blur, with Shiro learning his way around the temple grounds, slowly familiarizing himself with the entrances and exits. He got more comfortable around the temple’s staff, befriending a few of the guards. He found himself spending a lot of time in the kitchens with Lance’s friend Hunk, a beta who always had a smile and a treat readily available.

Shiro hadn’t experienced this type of camaraderie since his days at the Garrison. He found himself opening up to Hunk and Lance during their morning meals together, telling them stories of his days goofing around with Matt and getting Keith out of trouble. 

It felt good to let himself go back there. But he always reached a point where his smile would fade and words would die in his throat. There was a door to those memories that he’d sealed shut, refusing to let himself go any further.

Lance and Hunk seemed to understand as they never pressed him. 

Instead, they would turn to their own childhoods, regaling him with tales of their various siblings. Shiro learned that Lance had a favorite sister at home that sometimes came to visit, and that Hunk was taught many of his baking skills by his mother and grandmother.

Shiro envied the close bond between them, the way Lance and Hunk were able to communicate without words and add to each other’s stories, having several shared childhood experiences.

He wondered how much of that was from their Altean abilities. Although Hunk was not one of the Chosen who performed shield magic, he had been selected by the High Council, as all servants living at the temple were, particularly because of his strong heart. Shiro had surmised that all Alteans could interact with magic, but only a small percentage could use it and even fewer were Chosen.

His most interesting interaction thus far had been with Lance’s cousin, Allura. She was unlike anyone Shiro had known, her leadership and determination matched only by her fierce passion for life. Shiro thought she would make an excellent king some day.

He told Hunk and Lance as much one morning. Hunk was pouring them a dark brew that was made from roots found in the caverns. It was smokey and bitter, like coffee, and Lance showed Shiro how to mix in sweet cream to make a delicious, smooth concoction.

“Allura would make a great ruler. She’s just got this air about her. I bet she’s great in a crisis.”

Lance chuckled. “Well, considering her dad is the king, she’s kinda got it in her blood.”

“Her dad’s the king?” Shiro asked, hands curling around his drink. “But wait, aren’t you her cousin?”

Lance flushed under Shiro’s intense stare. He’d been doing better in the alpha’s presence, having looked up a few spells and a tonic that were said to help with the, erm, urges.

“Yes,” Lance said, reaching for a sweet bun from a pile in the center of the table, still warm from the oven.

“So, doesn’t that make you royalty of some kind? A prince or a lord or something?”

Hunk snickered, sitting down to eat finally after serving them both. “Oh, yeah, Lance has a ridiculous title.”

Shiro grinned, resting his chin in his palm. 

“Hunk,” Lance said by way of warning. 

“Oh, no, I really think I need to hear this,” Shiro said, looking over the rim of his mug as he took another sip. 

“It’s just a dumb name.”

“It’s highly embarrassing so  _ of course _ I’m gonna tell you,” Hunk said with a huge grin covering his face. Lance’s actual name is Fiddilance Layton Brimsey the Seventh, Lord of Eglantine and Master of the Nine Valleys."

Shiro's eyes went wide and a hearty laugh rumbled up from his chest. The sound was so glorious that Lance had no choice but to laugh along with him.

"Please, dear gods, never call me that again."

Shiro wiped moisture from his lashes, his sides aching. It had been a long, long time since laughter had so thoroughly taken him.

Shortly after, Lance and Shiro left Hunk to the rest of his cooking. 

"What are your plans for today?" Lance asked as they walked through the great hall.

They'd taken some of the brew with them and occupied one of the alcoves lining the space. Sunlight filtered in an open window, a breeze ruffling the gauzy curtains.

"I was thinking of visiting the sacred cave garden again. And maybe trying my hand at learning some Altean. Why?"

"Well, I was sort of thinking it might be a good time to try your first healing session."

Shiro looked at Lance intently, but couldn’t formulate an immediate response. Instead, he took a long sip of his drink and looked out the window, the peaceful landscape at odds with the pounding in his head, the fists of his memories beating against the door he’d so carefully constructed to lock them away.

“I don’t know if I’m ready, yet,” he said quietly. 

Lance nodded but didn’t push further. His scent had been dulled for the past few days, but Shiro could still catch enough to make his pulse kick up. He’d grown to enjoy the way their scents mingled together, his own now lacking when it wasn’t infused with threads of Lance.

“There are other healers here,” Lance said, eyes fixated on the table. “I understand that I might be...compromised. If you didn’t want me to be the one, we could arrange—“

“No, that’s not it.”

Lance pressed his lips together to keep from asking further questions. He wanted so desperately to listen in on Shiro’s mind, but his strong moral compass kept his telepathy quiet. 

“I know that it’s probably best if I start chipping away at it, but to be perfectly honest I’m a little nervous about going down the rabbit hole.”

“Rabbit hole?” Lance cocked his head to the side, his pointed ears flicking.

“Yeah, it’s an Earth expression. It basically means that you start something without knowing where and how it will end, that it will keep burrowing and you’ll get lost.”

Lance hummed thoughtfully. Shiro’s time with the Galra was darker than any trauma Lance had witnessed so far in his young life. Illness. Old age. The occasional kitchen accident.

Lance’s understanding of violence was based on the experiences of a relatively civil and peaceful society. 

The Galra were neither, for what place did civility have among conquerors.

“I think if you are uncertain, then it’s best to wait. There is no timetable for healing, especially considering all you’ve been through.” Lance reached out and put his hand on top of Shiro’s. “You aren’t to blame for anything that happened, and you are welcome to explore these things at your own pace.”

Shiro’s eyes were glued to where Lance was touching him, a pink blush tinting his cheeks. 

“That makes sense,” he said. 

“When you’re ready, let me know.”

Shiro looked up to catch Lance’s fond gaze. A gaze that held a promise and the strength to uphold it.

“I will,” Shiro replied.

It was another week before Shiro sought Lance out. In the end, the uncertainty of the lingering decision proved to cause too much anxiety and he decided it would be better to rip it off like a bandaid than wallow in the murky depths of the unknown any longer.

That’s how he found himself outside the door to Lance’s room. It swooshed open before Shiro could knock and Lance didn’t appear surprised to see him.

“Takashi. How are you?” Lance asked, stepping aside so Shiro could enter.

“Good,” he answered. Going into Lance’s room felt like he was trespassing, but he was too curious to stop.

The room was spacious, with a large, open wall looking out over the forest, separated by marble columns. Blue floor-to-ceiling fabric accented the white marble for a dramatic effect. Beyond was a balcony of sorts, bathed in sunlight and covered in vines.

Shiro’s eyes landed on Lance’s bed, it’s circular shape surrounded by soft, white netting.

“I, um, was sort of hoping we could do my first healing session today,” Shiro said, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck as he pulled his eyes from Lance’s nest to his face.

Lance did his best to hide the delight of having the alpha in his room that was curling in his gut. It was easy to dampen once he remembered how this was likely to end. Trauma healed differently in each person, but Takashi was unlike anyone Lance had attempted to help. 

“I want to say something before we get started.” Lance motioned for Takashi to follow him and he went out onto the balcony. His powder blue robes fluttered around his ankles and his white hair pricked up into disarray, but his eyes were serious as they held Takashi’s gaze. “I’ve never healed a human before, aside from what I did for you when you first arrived. I know that your path to recovery will be a long one and I want you to know that I’m going to do my best to help you.”

He flushed, grabbing one bicep as his eyes fell to the ground. Lance was grateful that he’d managed to perform his scent spell before Takashi arrived. “But even so, I think we need to proceed with caution. In the event that I completely mess this up, I—“

“Lance.” Shiro was moving before he could tell himself it was a bad idea. He grabbed one of Lance’s hands in his own and stepped into Lance’s personal space. “The reason why I’m here is because I truly believe, in my soul, that you have the ability to help me.”

At Lance’s questioning look, Shiro continued. “I was very, very sick before I ended up in space and I saw countless therapists who all tried to help. Maybe I wasn’t receptive to it then, or maybe they just didn’t inspire the same trust in me. Either way, I know you’ll do your best.”

Shiro cupped Lance’s jaw and gazed down into his face with serious intent. “I believe in you.”

Takashi’s scent was pulsing around Lance, his head floating as he was pinned down by that mercury stare.

Lance swallowed hard and nodded. “Right, then. Shall we get started?”

He turned and went back inside with Shiro following close behind.

“We can really do this anywhere, but it’s best if we have someplace quiet and comfortable where we won’t be disturbed.”

“This is fine with me,” Shiro said. 

“Okay, cool.” Lance shook himself of his personal desires, shedding them like an oversized coat as he prepared his mind for the task ahead. “My telepathy allows me to go into a dreamlike state with a person and together, we find the pain points in memory and revisit them. It will be very similar to a holographic training sequence.”

As he spoke, Lance activated a panel by the wall of windows that created a particle barrier across them and drew the curtains closed. He led Shiro over to the sitting area in his chamber where there was a long padded bench.

“You’ll be able to see the memory play out but as a recording. Your past self, those around you, they cannot hear or interact with you. Try as you might, you won’t be able to change the outcome. But I’ll be right there with you.”

Shiro nodded, his jaw set in grim determination. 

“Lay down,” Lance instructed, sitting by Takashi’s head. “I’m going to touch your head and for a few minutes we’re gonna try and sync up, so just relax, okay?”

“Okay,” Shiro said. He scooted until his head was resting on Lance’s thighs, the heat of them warming his skull. He could feel Lance’s pulse thundering beneath him, but Lance gave nothing else away, his breath and his voice calm and collected.

“Here we go,” Lance said, and his fingertips gently touched Shiro’s temples. 

Immediately, they were transported to a plane of consciousness that existed outside of their physical forms. They were translucent versions of themselves, their skin glowing pearlescent against an endless night sky. Shiro looked down and the ground was glassy, like a still lake, reflecting the cosmos above. 

“Hey, big guy,” Lance said from his right. 

Shiro looked over to him and smiled, soft and pure. Lance held out his hand and Shiro took it. 

_ Takashi.  _ Lance’s voice was in his head, but Lance wasn’t speaking.  _ From now on, we’ll be communicating like this. Can you try? _

_ Hello?  _ Shiro thought, a bit embarrassed until a gleam of recognition travelled from Lance through their connection.

_ This is weird.  _ Shiro said.

Lance chuckled.  _ You’ll get used to it. _

For awhile they had an easy conversation. Lance answered Takahi’s questions about the Astral Plane before asking a few, safe questions. When Lance was satisfied that their thoughts were synchronized, he stood in front of Takashi, collecting the alpha’s hands in his own.

_ Takashi. Can you show me where you’re storing these bad memories? _

A door appeared before them, tall and round and made of metal. Takashi stared at it with a face of haunting exhaustion, as if it was something from a nightmare that he’d seen so many times it ceased to have any impact. Lance knew that this was just a physical manifestation of Takashi’s trauma, and he watched as Takashi touched the metal, his Galra arm lighting up as the fingers drew across the door’s surface.

_ Let’s go inside.  _

Lance opened the door and stepped in, waiting only a tick before Takashi was at his side. They were on a Galra cruiser, the dark walls accentuated by glowing magenta lights.

Lance had only seen archival holograms of the Galra and he found himself inspecting the entire space, trying to commit it to memory. He felt Takashi tense at his side. Ahead, a much younger version of him—one who still had his right arm and jet black hair—was crouched against a wall, peering around a corner to see if any guards were coming. 

There were two other humans with him.

_ Sam. Matt. _

Lance was flooded with Takashi’s recognition of the older beta and his young omega son. They followed along as the trio moved down the hall, clearly trying to make an escape.

They reached the door to the ship’s emergency escape pods and Matt tripped the panel locking it. The door whooshed open to reveal a hulking figure with a bright orange eye that cast half his face in eerie shadow. He was a dominant alpha, the kind that Lance immediately wanted to drop his gaze from. 

_ Sendak. _

The giant Galra was flanked by soldiers, who rushed forward to detain the would-be fugitives. Matt and Sam fell to their knees but Takashi stood and fought off the first two guards. There was a wildness to him. He’d been in captivity long enough to realize that they would likely die if they stayed, so he the only choice he had was to fight. 

To fight and be free.

But even in all his fury, Takashi was no match for a swarm of bodies. They eventually pinned him to the ground and Sendak came over to leer in his face. Takashi refused to look away and a manic smile crawled across Sendak’s face at the challenge.

“You seem incapable of learning your place.” As he spoke, Sendak’s claws dug into Takashi’s cheeks, pricking drops of crimson blood. “But I know just what a parasite like you needs. Take him to the shack.”

The shack turned out to be a solitary metal shed set up in the engine room where the noise was so loud that a prisoner could scream until their voice gave out and not be heard by a soul.

Lance stood next to Takashi in the corner of the room, watching as his younger self was strung up by the wrists, his toes barely touching the ground. The soldiers forced Takashi’s jaw open and fastened a muzzle to his face—one that had a bit pressed hard against his tongue. It was designed to keep the jaw shut, the mouth firmly closed around the bit, so that if the person opened their mouth to scream, it would dig into their flesh.

Lance could taste the metal in his mouth, could feel the mask suffocating him through Takashi’s memory. It was at this moment that Takashi had truly felt fear, but his eyes remained wild, as if the bit only further fueled his desperate hunger for freedom.

_ Takashi. We should turn back now. _

_ No. This is what we came to see, isn’t it? If I turn back now it means that at another time, whether it’s a week or a month from now, I’ll have to reopen that door and trudge up this path again. _

Lance reached over and grabbed Takashi’s hand. Sendak arrived in the shack after Takashi had already been hanging there for some time.

“I knew you were going to be a problem for me the minute I saw you, Earthling.” Sendak walked up to Takashi and struck him hard across the face. “You have proud eyes. You are a fighter.” 

Sendak hit him in the stomach and Takashi spasmed, unable to crumple in on the blow due to his constricted movement. 

“It is my job to turn you into a loyal dog of the empire.”

Sendak hit Takashi over and over again, breaking more than a couple ribs and tearing the fabric of his scrubby tunic. 

But Takashi didn’t scream. He grunted and panted at the pain, but he didn’t cry out, partly because he didn’t want to give Sendak the satisfaction. Mostly to spare his face the sting of the muzzle’s bite. 

“You will learn to heel. I’ll put you in the ring and you will fight for your master. And when you think about disobeying me I want you to remember this moment.”

Sendak went to the door and wrenched it open, dragging another body into the shack. It was Matt, whose lip was split, one eye bruised shut.

“This little omega here does not stand a chance for survival.”

Takashi screamed then, for Sendak was holding Matt in front of him, his hand closed around Matt’s throat. Matt looked up at Takashi with fear glazing over his amber eyes. Sendak leaned down as his fingers dug into one of Matt’s glands, blood and oil oozing over his claws. Matt cried out and Takashi turned feral, shouting and thrashing in vain.

“Do you smell him, Earthling? He reeks of fear but even so, I know plenty of guards who would line up to take him. I wonder when his next heat cycle is set to begin. He might make a nice bounty for my warriors.”

Lance felt Takashi tugging at his hand, still eager, even now to save his friend.

_ I’ll kill him. _

_ Sendak is one of your greatest enemies, isn’t he? _

_ The greatest.  _

“If you want to make sure your friend isn’t brutalized to death, you’ll get in line.”

Young Takashi finally stopped struggling, blood dripping from the muzzle, his body shaking from exhaustion and excruciating pain.

“Good,” Sendak said. “For now, I’m keeping this little pet with me. Think of his life as collateral against your victories.”

The door to the shack shut and Takashi wept, his sounds muffled. He passed out, still in shackles, and Lance and the present Takashi were left in the dark.

Lance summoned the Astral Plane, bringing Takashi one step back from his memories.

_ I’m sorry that happened to you. Sendak is a monster. _

_ Yes. But he is nothing compared to what I became trying to win his favor. _

Lance hummed.  _ I think you should rest. _

He woke them both from the trance, his hands still on Takashi’s temples. They were damp with tears, and it was only then that Lance realized he was crying, too.

The memory was heartbreaking, but Lance had been able to leave a good deal of his healing magic behind, which would make it easier for Takashi to access the memories without inducing a panic attack. It would also stop the nightmares, at least any of that specific incident.

Still, Lance realized that no amount of Altean magic, Chosen or not, would be able to heal some of these wounds. 

And so he sobbed, bending over to hold Takashi against his lap, their bodies curled together, weeping in tandem. Takashi fell asleep like that, and when he did Lance lifted him easily to the bed.

His mind raced with the sounds of Takashi’s scream, wondering if Sendak was out there, now, hunting his favorite dog and if Matt was still alive. 

It took a long time for Lance to fall asleep, and when he did, he dreamt of vengeance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry I know that hurt.
> 
> Next chapter, Lance takes Shiro on a date. What do you think they’re gonna do???
> 
> Follow me on Twitter!! [@nihilistshiro](https://nihilistshiro.tumblr.com/)


	6. Up in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance decides to do something special for Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lepkeks = Altean butterflies

Lance was exhausted.

For the past three days, he’d been completely consumed by his work at the temple. Coran had detected an anomaly approaching Altea–something their sensors couldn’t analyze–which put everybody on high alert. 

Lance and Allura were working around the clock, bolstering Altea’s defenses and going through different training sequences for various threats. Lance wasn’t sure if the grueling physical activity was better or worse than the neverending emotional fatigue. He was plagued with anxieties the entire time. 

Lance disconnected from almost everyone, putting up his mental barriers and shielding his thoughts from others. Allura was much the same, although there was an added energy about her. She thrived on the pressure, dominating meetings and quickly bringing things to order. 

Lance was grateful. His cousin was amazing.

She’d been understanding of the attachment he’d formed with Takashi and he’d busted his ass proving to her that he was still dedicated to the temple. In fact, she’d helped him with a side project he’d been working on.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” Lance said as they flicked off the lights in one of the temple’s workshops. Thankfully it had been empty so Lance had free use of the space.

“Of course,” Allura said with a smile. “You’re really starting to care for him, aren’t you?”

Lance sighed. He wanted to lie, but Allura would see through that even without her Chosen abilities. “Yes. I don’t know how to explain it. I want to see him smile. I want to heal him, but also he just makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

Allura gave him a soft, sad smile. She didn’t chastise him but also didn’t offer hope when they both knew there was none. 

One day, Takashi would go back to his home planet and Lance would stay. Despite the obvious, Lance wanted to keep nurturing the flicker of golden flame Shiro’s presence inspired. He might never burn with the passion of true love, but for now, at least he could bask in the warmth of Takashi and let him illuminate Lance for a little while longer.

“He’s lucky to have you as a friend, Lance.”

They were stopped at the entrance to the great hall, others bustling around them. Allura held her hands out and Lance offered his in return. They stared at each other for a moment longer and Lance let the love he felt for her flow through him, mixing with Allura’s reciprocal feelings to create a feedback loop.

Such touch inspired the recharging of energy for Alteans.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice thick.

Allura gave a small chuckle. “Go woo your human.”

Lance’s grin widened. “Thanks, Allura. I owe you one!”

He squeezed her hands and made his way to the training deck, where Takashi had been spending most of his time. Although Lance hadn’t seen the alpha during the past few days, except for their morning meals, he’d used his abilities to check in on Takashi periodically. 

He seemed…lighter, somehow, since their first healing session, and the thought filled Lance with immense pride.

The sound of clanging metal greeted him as the doors to the training deck swooshed open. He walked in to find Takashi and Hunk sparring with Altean staffs. He watched them dance around each other, Takashi calling out pointers on technique and words of praise when Hunk executed something well.

“Nice!” Takashi said as Hunk dodged a blow and counterattacked. They dueled back and forth a bit before Hunk put up a hand, having reached his limit.

“Great work today,” Takashi said. “You’re really coming along.”

Hunk gave him a broad smile and Takashi clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re a natural,” Lance said to Hunk as he walked over and the beta blushed. 

“Thanks,” Hunk said, rubbing a hand along his nape. “Shiro’s been nice enough to give me some combat training.”

While most Alteans learned general defense moves and basic fitness, they started learning a trade at a young age. As a baker and cook, Hunk wouldn’t have the same level of attention paid to fighting skills.

Chosen omegas were given some of the most difficult defense courses, which was seen as a level of insurance for such an important asset to Altea’s overall security. 

“I’m gonna go shower,” Hunk said, giving Lance a wink when Shiro was drinking from his water flask. “I’ll catch you guys later!”

Takashi waved and Lance rolled his eyes, even as he smiled at his friend.

“Hey,” Takashi said when they were alone. “What’s up?”

“Um, the ceiling?” Lance added, raising one snowy brow. 

Takashi laughed. “Sorry, that’s an Earth expression. It means what are you up to.”

“Ah,” Lance said, his cheeks heating a bit beneath the sunny smile Takashi focused on him. “I came to see if you had any plans this evening.”

“Oh, uh, no! I don’t. Have plans, that is.” 

“Great,” Lance said, wondering when the air between them changed from something light and friendly to something a bit awkward and tense. “I’ll swing by your room in a varga?”

Takashi was staring at him intently, his dark brows drawn. He didn’t answer right away and seemed to realize his error, shaking his head. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

“Great.”

“Great,” Takashi replied. 

Lance gave him a nod and tried to quell the  _ lepkeks _ fluttering in his stomach as he left the training deck. He couldn’t get Takashi’s face out of his head. Couldn’t stop replaying his smile and hearing his voice. Lance was careful to keep his mental barriers firmly in place, skirting along the people passing him in the halls as he made his way to his chamber.

When the door closed behind him, Lance collapsed against it. He felt like a fool. A novice. What did he know about alphas and courting? What could he possibly offer someone––someone from another world, no less––when taking a mate was forbidden?

He ground his teeth together, fighting the red flags blaring in his brain, telling him to call the date off. But he’d worked so hard to do something nice for Takashi and he deserved it.

Lance spent the next varga trying to decide what to wear. He was stuck between two options—one of navy blue that was practical, safe. Classic Altean garb.

And an outfit that looked as if it was spun of gold. The fabric was sheer, and draped over the shoulder, cinching at the waist and cascading to the floor in a delicate waterfall. Underneath that was a delicate skirt of sky blue. The outfit was one he’d never worn. One that served no purpose other than frivolous beauty.

Yet despite his misgivings, it was the outfit Lance found himself in when he finally went to collect Takashi and take him to the surprise Allura had helped him prepare. 

The gold fabric sparkled beneath the temple sconces. He got more than one curious look on his way, but he ignored everything but the steady flow of his breath.

Lance had to control his reactions this time. His scent alone was already turning heavy, melting the air around him with the strength of his desire. 

Had to rein in his urge to see Takashi smiling and carefree. Knowing he put that smile there. Hoping that Takashi would put his big hands around Lance’s waist and pull him in, broad shoulders blocking out the sunlight as he leaned forward and—

Quiznak. This was gonna be tough.

He gulped, coming to a stop at Takashi’s door.

It slid open before he could knock and Takashi stopped abruptly, his nostrils flaring as his eyes raked hot coals down Lance’s body. 

Lance cringed, his thighs pressed together. Moisture began to gather, arousal shivering down his spine.

“H-hi!” he choked out, arms wrapped protectively around his middle. 

Shiro’s expression softened, ever the gentleman, and he stepped into the hall, gesturing with his right arm. “Lead the way.”

Lance turned on his heel and walked off, Shiro falling into step beside him. 

“Haven’t seen much of you around,” Shiro said, casting a sidelong glance at the Altean. 

Lance was dressed in an ensemble that Shiro could only describe as sinful. He was actually grateful for Lance’s apparent nerves because it seemed to keep him distracted from the tense set of Shiro’s shoulders, the sharp spike of lust in his scent. 

He could smell Lance’s own arousal, the wet heat of him rising up around Shiro and filling his senses.

“Yes, well, we’ve had quite a week here. I’m not sure if you’ve overheard, but there is an anomaly headed toward Altea.”

“Oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

Lance chuckled. “I think we’re all just trying to keep a level head about it. We should have a few more quintants until we intercept it.”

He led them outside and they walked along the stone walls, the sun’s heat starting to abate as it began its descent.

“How are you feeling?” Lance asked after a while, guiding Shiro to a large out-building that reminded Shiro of a ship hangar, but it was about half the size. 

Shiro wanted to give a basic answer.  _ I’m fine. _

But Lance had been the one to help him start this healing process and he deserved an honest response. 

“I’m doing okay. Some moments are hard. I’m processing.” 

They stopped at a large door and Lance typed a code into a keypad standing in front of it.

“But I’ve slept through the night the past three nights and that hasn’t happened in…” Shiro scratched a finger at his temple as he thought then let out a short bark of laughter. “Wow. Years. That hasn’t happened in years.”

Lance turned to face him. “I’m glad.”

Lights came on inside the workshop and Shiro could make out a strange shape in the center of the room. 

“Okay, this is either going to go very well or horribly wrong, so just bear with me, please,” Lance said, coming to a stop at the edge of a platform that looked out onto the workshop beyond. 

“The other day, I saw a memory. It seemed like a happy one. Like insanely happy. And I wanted to do something to help you feel...better. So I pulled something out of it to surprise you.” 

Lance tapped at a screen and the dome covering the structure split and retractable doors exposed the cloudless expanse of sky.

“I don’t know what these are called and we don’t really have anything comparable on Altea,” Lance said as he walked down three short steps that lead from the platform to the open space.

There was a machine sitting undisturbed and it reminded Shiro of a hot tub in a weird way. 

“Okay,” he said, following Lance down.

Lance adjusted some controls on the machine and it sprang to life, hovering above the ground. It was made of silver-white metal and had glowing blue lights, much the same as most of the Altean tech Shiro had seen.

“I want to take you up in the air,” Lance said, pushing another button. 

Four streams of blue quintessence sprang from each corner of the machine and created a giant, honeycomb balloon. There was a short tether keeping the balloon from floating away and Lance opened a small door in the side of the basket, a metal ladder spilling out.

At once, Shiro was transferred back to his childhood. Way back. Back to when his family first moved to America. A friend of his father’s from work had a hot air balloon, and once on his birthday, Shiro’s dad had taken him for a ride over the desert. 

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and Shiro stepped down to where Lance stood, pulling him into his arms. There was nothing sensual about the touch, but electricity still coursed through him, different than the heat of passion. It was like the rumble of an engine, powerful and steady and resonating down to Shiro’s bones.

“Thank you,” he said, his cheek brushing Lance’s hair. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. 

Lance relaxed in his hold and rubbed his hands along Shiro’s broad back. 

“You’re welcome,” Lance said, and his voice was dreamy.

They stayed like that for a few ticks longer, the hum of the balloon the only sound, cocooning them in the workshop, beneath an endless summer sky.

Lance cleared his throat and leaned back. Shiro released him, his hands trailing down Lance’s arms, trying to savor the contact.

“Shall we?” Lance asked. 

“Let’s do it.”

It took a couple of minutes for them to get situated in the basket, and then Lance released the tether and they began to rise, a glowing ball of energy hovering in the center of the balloon, controlling its movements. Tendrils of energy curled bright blue, a few motes of the glowing ball falling harmlessly into the basket as it took them out of the building.

The beauty of the land sprawled out before them and it took Shiro’s breath away. Altea was a lush, vibrant planet, and as the sunset painted it gold, they rose above the temple, toward the forest and mountains beyond. 

“This is beautiful,” Lance said from his right and Shiro turned to look at him.

His white hair was burnished gold in the light, matching his outfit, and he looked like a treasure. Like a statue from antiquity. 

“Yeah,” Shiro answered, staring in fascination at Lance as he stood against the colors of the Altean sunset. “This feels like a dream.”

Lance looked at him with a grin. “I’m really happy. I was worried it would––“

“No,” Shiro said, shuffling toward Lance. The basket was not terribly spacious, the thick walls just high enough to come up to Lance’s chest. “This is perfect. I don’t know how to explain it but you just make me feel safe. You make me forget about everything going on up here.” Shiro gestured to his head.

“You make me forget that I’m not supposed to want this,” Lance said, unable to hold back what he’d been thinking all day. “What’s going to happen when you go home? I’ve never felt like this before and it’s the absolute worst of circumstances.”

“I know.” Shiro grabbed Lance’s hand in his own. He was taller than Lance by at least a head, and he blocked the sun, casting Lance’s featured in shadow. “I know it doesn’t make any sense. I know it’s a dumbass idea.” At that moment he heard Keith’s voice in his head. “But I want to spend as much time as possible with you. I want to be close to you. Even if we can’t...can’t mate. I still want to be with you while I’m here. As long as I’m here.”

Lance stared up at him in shock. “Do you really think that’s something we could do?”

Shiro’s mouth set in a firm line. Lance didn’t need to read his thoughts to know he was having doubts. Then his dark eyes flashed with a determined glint. Lance was the first person he’d ever wanted so fiercely, in any and every way. 

“Yes,” he said, squeezing Lance’s hand. “I promise you. I know how important your people are to you. And I know that I have to leave. It wouldn’t be fair anyway, right? I promise I’ll keep us from doing anything we’d regret.”

Lance thought about the implications of this relationship. Of what the High Council would say. He wanted them to know because he was tired of pretending the glorious feeling pumping through him was somehow wrong. 

He would let Takashi love him while they abstained from mating. Even as it played back in Lance’s head he knew it was a horrible idea. Knew that it could not possibly end well for either of them. 

And yet, he let his hand drift up to Takashi’s face, his thumb brushing along the alpha’s cheek. With the wind blowing, it should be difficult to catch his scent, but somehow it filled Lance, and he had to have more. 

Lance reached up on his tiptoes and pressed their lips together. Shiro’s mouth answered in kind, firm and sweet and everything Lance had ever imagined it might be.

The balloon made a small loop over the nearest section of the forest, bringing them back around as the last of the sun’s rays glittered a rainbow of purples and reds and blues, reflecting off the white marble of the temple. 

They kissed a few more times, each serving as one of the top ten moments of Lance’s life.

Even though it would be painful to say goodbye and likely break Lance in ways he’d never known. Even though. He let himself get lost in the taste of Takashi on his lips and the heat of his body pressed up against Lance’s own.

Regret was an emotion Lance couldn’t afford when all he could feel was love. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, they embark on another healing session that doesn't go according to plan.
> 
> Thank you to Brit for beta-reading!!
> 
> Twitter: [@nihilistshiro](https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro)


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